I knew the week would go fast.
Vacations always do.
But it honestly felt like I stepped off a moving sidewalk and life went into slow motion. Our living room looked out over the waves and dunes with their wild grasses nodding in the perpetual breeze, and I caught my breath.
Foaming and dancing toward shore, and then the skittering back to the deep,
the waves left behind the shimmery, wet sand, mirroring the sky above.
There is this moment between waves when the last wave has slipped back to sea,
and the next hasn’t arrived yet.
The air of expectancy, the pause, the quiet.
I found myself drinking in the quiet of that moment.
Life is full of noise and demands and needs.
But this delicious moment in time, when the sand under your feet glitters with the sky above, the pinks and purples of sunset were a healing salve to my soul.
Sometimes God’s presence is powerful and mind-blowing.
But this last week I marveled at His presence in the quiet ones,
the whisper over my shoulder,
the hushed promise of His always presence.
“And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains
and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.
And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.
And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.”
He is there, in the quiet whisper.
Sand scrubs away at the rough edges of shells and rocks, flipping them over and over in the waves. I fingered a piece of green sea glass my son found for me, worn smooth and perfect from the countless trips back and forth against the abrasive sand.
I wondered what it might have been, a glass bottle perhaps, broken beyond use.
But here it was, in an entirely new form, more beautiful and stunning than ever,
but only because of the brutal shattering and endless sanding.
My broken edges and sharpness have left me gasping this year, my need more often obvious than my abilities. I’ve never felt as inadequate as this last year.
But my heart is at rest this morning as the wave goes out again and the perpetual sanding continues. It is because He loves me that He keeps refining.
In the waves that tear my feet out from under me and leave me gasping for air, and in the gentle laughing of the waves as they trip back to sea, and in the pause in between, God IS.
His presence, even the whisper above the noise, is healing.
I face real life after the dreamy vacation with a heart that is restored.
I’m not any stronger than before, but my soul leans harder into the beautiful reality of His never-ending presence.
Photo credits to Gretta, as always,
who manages to capture those moments that I cannot…